Their faces were incredibly unsightly by this point. They were friends with Big-head, but that friendship wasn’t enough to get them to stand up to Patriarch Golden Light. And yet, Big-head was clearly heading to them seeking refuge.
“Fellow Daoists, save me!” he cried, his voice filled with a pleading tone. Considering his status and the level of his Cultivation base, for him to cry out in such a manner showed what a wretched position he’d fallen into. His voice reached the mountain peak, and the ears of the three old men. They couldn’t help but feel a bit sympathetic.
Meng Hao approached, whistling through the air, surrounded by golden light. “Do the three of you want to get involved too?” he said coolly, his voice echoing out in all directions like thunder.
The faces of the three old men flickered. This was especially true of the two men with the weaker Cultivation bases. Their minds spun and their faces drained of blood. Their Cores quivered inside of them. All three men took in deep breaths.
They couldn’t help but think about the rumors that had been spreading regarding Patriarch Golden Light.
He ripped the Cores out of Cultivators and ate them raw! He massacred, leaving no survivors! His methods were cruel and vicious!
It wasn’t clear how such rumors had begun to spread about Meng Hao. He actually hadn’t killed very many people in the past few days; most of the deaths were caused by his hundreds of followers.
In any case, as soon as Meng Hao’s words fell upon the ears of the three men on the peak of the mountain, the old man with the highest Cultivation base, the one with the seven-colored robe, shot to his feet. A smile covered his face as he clasped hands and bowed.